Happy Friggin' Valentine's Day
by Lovely-Little-Cupid
Summary: When some witch hunting goes awry and Dean finds himself on the receiving end of a love potion, Sam is quite amused to see that his brother's affection is focused on Castiel. He always knew something was going on between those two, whether they knew it themselves or not. However, the situation progressively becomes less funny when Dean's affections turn into all out possession.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Happy Friggin' Valentine's Day **  
Rating:** Mature **  
Pairing:** Dean/Castiel

 **Full Summary:** When a little witch hunting goes awry and Dean finds himself on the receiving end of a love potion, Sam is quite amused to find that the object of his brother's affection is Castiel. He always knew something was going on between those two, whether they knew it themselves or not. However, the situation progressively becomes less funny when Dean's affections turn into all out possession. In the span of three days, he goes from having a cute little crush to making a full-blown marriage proposal. As the effects of the potion become worse, and even violent, Sam and Cas must find a way to reverse it before things spiral complete out of control or, worse yet, one of them ends up dead. Jealousy, after all, can drive people to do some crazy things.

 **Author's Note:** Hello everyone! I just wanted to say thank you all so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! Valentine's Day is right around the corner (my favorite holiday!) so I thought it would be fun to write a little something! I absolutely love the love potion trope and wanted to do something that was funny and out there while also being pretty close to Supernatural's usual style of humor. Hopefully I succeeded. And if I didn't- well, it was still fun to write. This should only be a few chapters long, definitely no more than ten, and I will try to update often. See you soon, my lovelies!

* * *

 **"There's no love without pain." - Irving Stone**

 **Chapter 1**

"Dammit!"

Dean cursed as he stumbled his way down the path, tripping over the loose gravel beneath his feet. He was running as fast as his legs would carry him, racing back to the Impala for safety. Behind him, loud and booming from inside the barn, he could hear her laughing, throwing out insults and taunts. Talk about childish.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay?" Sam cried as he rushed to his brother's aid, horrified by his current condition. Dean was bowled over, hunched as he ran, one hand clutching his face. Sam could hear him wheezing, voice harsh and raspy as he spoke.

"The bitch got me, too!" he hissed, blood absolutely boiling. He couldn't remember ever being this pissed. Not only was this chick annoying, but he felt like a little bitch for running away like that. He was officially done with today.

The Winchesters had never had the best track record when it came to hunting witches. It was always a mixed bag of tricks: you never knew what you were going to get. Some were powerful, others were cunning. And then there were those that just messed around for shits and giggles; stupid little girls who dressed the part and played the game for the sake of being edgy. They had met a few of those in their day and usually they spooked once they realized they were straddling the gateway to something serious. Those were the kind that you could frighten away with a simple threat and stomp of your heel. The kind Dean originally thought they were dealing with.

Upon first glance, Dean had literally laughed in her face. The girl looked like she had crawled out of the dumpster behind Hot Topic. All pastels and grunge t-shirts, dark make-up, piercings and pop references. A teenage nightmare. Dean was cringing from the moment she opened her mouth. She was just chock full of angsty teen bullshit. Petty, moronic, egotistical bullshit. And Dean had called her out on it, too. He looked her dead in the eyes and said, "You have no idea what you're doing and this little bitch fit of yours is getting people killed."

And it was true. The only reason they had come all the way out to Nowheresville Nebraska was because a couple of teen girls got cursed. Nothing too serious in the beginning; in fact, it was kind of funny. Funny enough to make Dean laugh, at least. The inflicted were a couple of beauty queens and when they woke up one morning looking like Sloth from The Goonies... Well, everybody lost their shit.

Dean assumed they were just dealing with a witch who held a grudge and had a wicked sense of humor, but things changed when it went from a joke to an all-out blood-bath. Just a day after they arrived to investigate, some girl up in Paxton was found in pieces, burnt to a crisp, with only her torso and left leg intact. The kid had been a cheerleader, a local volunteer, and had just been accepted to Creighton University in the fall; she honestly seemed like a really nice girl.

At first, Dean wasn't convinced that they were connected, but it didn't take them long to figure out what tied the two together. Apparently, her and bitchy witchy had been best friends until she began dabbling in the dark arts. This chick decided to off all her ex-BFFs for dumping her. Once again, angsty teen bullshit.

They had been tracking her for days, finally cornering her in some run down old barn just West of Chadron. Easy peasy, Dean had thought, how hard can this be? Well, pretty damn hard was the answer.

"What happened?" Sam cried, voice high and tight as he grabbed Dean's arm, leading him toward the Impala. Dean could barely make out Castiel's figure through the haze, leaning against the driver's door with his trench coat laying on the hood. He watched dizzily as the man dusted himself off, coughing slightly. It made him feel better knowing that he wasn't the only douchebag in the group. Castiel had swung in out of nowhere, intending to save the day, and suffered the same fate. Although, most of the powder she had thrown at him ended up on his jacket instead of in his face. Dean had complimented her humor, not her aim.

"I don't know! She hit me with...something! It burns like hell!" he cried, still clutching his face as they stumbled towards the Impala. Castiel had now joined in Sam's panic, helping him to sit down in the front seat. If he went blind, he swore that bitch was going to pay. There was a new Valentine's Day issue of Busty, Beautiful Blonds sitting at home with his name on it and it wasn't going to do him any good if he couldn't see it.

"Is she still in the barn? Did you see where she went?" Sam sputtered as he leaned over his brother, realizing then that they were about to let her get away.

"Well, I'd point you in the right direction, Sammy, but I can't fucking see," he cracked, shrugging through the pain.

Sam said nothing to that and instead took off back towards the barn, picking up his shot gun and running as fast as he could. As soon as he moved out of the way, Castiel took his spot. Concern rolled off him in waves.

"Dean, open your eyes. Let me take a look."

Worry pierced Castiel's words as he bent down in front of the man, voice commanding yet gentle. Dean begrudgingly obliged and lowered his hands to his lap, blinking rapidly in the dim. His vision was blurred, the image of Castiel in front of him barely visible through the haze. He felt his breath hitch. This wasn't good. It wasn't good at all. Whatever she had thrown at him, whatever she had done to him, was certainly effective.

Dean swallowed hard as Cas' hand came up to grip his jaw, turning his face from side to side. He knew he looked like shit. There was no doubt in his mind. Everything hurt. His nose was running, his eyes were watering, and he could tell his face was beginning to swell. His skin was flushed, sweaty, and his mind was swimming like it usually did when he had too much to drink.

"This shit really hurts," was all he could mutter before jerking out of Castiel's grip, unable to keep his eyes open any longer.

"It's possible she could have-," Castiel's words were cut short as Sam came trudging back down the path. From his expression, it was clear he was displeased, approaching them with an intense frown. There was a small scrap of paper clutched in his hand.

"The barn's empty. She's gone," he stated, slamming his gun down onto the Impala's hood. He, too, had begun to tire of the girl's antics. The little game of tag she was playing- it was immensely annoying and at this point all of them were angry and frustrated. Just when Dean thought it couldn't get any worse, Sam added, "Oh, and she left us this in the barn."

He held up the pink slip of paper to clarify, clearing his throat as he began to read, "In red ink, she wrote, 'Call me when there's news of a happy announcement. See you soon, boys. XOXOXO.' And on the back, she put her phone number. It's inside a heart, in case you were wondering."

"I'll give her credit where credit is due," Dean said, pushing himself up from the front seat, blinking rapidly as he shifted his gaze to Sam, "Bitch has got some nads, leaving her phone number like that. And her sense of humor is growing on me."

"Of course, it is," Sam sighed, glancing over at Castiel who wore a matching expression of aspiration. He shook his head before folding the piece of paper and stuffing it into his pocket, "You feeling any better now?"

"Yep, I'm just peachy," Dean cracked sarcastically, struggling to keep his eyes open, "Now let's get the hell out of here. I'm done with all this."

Digging in his jean pocket, Dean produced the keys to the Impala. Holding them, he motioned towards the car, "Get in."

Once again, Sam sighed at him, reaching out to snatch the keys from his hand. There was no way in hell he was going to let Dean drive while he was in such a state. They'd be dead before they even made it onto the highway. Pushing his brother out of the way, Sam approached the driver's door.

"I think you might have to take shotgun this time, Dean."

* * *

Somewhere along the way from Chadron back to Paxton, Dean had fallen asleep and the Impala had run low on gas.

Squinting against the bright gas station lights, awoken by the sound of Sam leaving the car, he gave a loud yawn and sat up. He could honestly say that, having gotten an hour of sleep, he felt absolutely no different. If anything, the headache he had earlier was even worse now, throbbing as lay back in his seat. Everything still hurt, everything still burned, everything was still shit. Nothing had changed. Nothing, but the scenery.

Instead of the bumpy back road they had taken to get to the barn, they were now parked beside a dented, old gas pump, faded logo stickers stuck to the front. Turning his head for a better look, glancing behind Castiel who was sitting quietly in the backseat, Dean saw an empty stretch of road leading in both directions. There were no signs visible so he wasn't sure where exactly there where, but at least they weren't in the middle of nowhere anymore. At least they were closer to the city, closer to the hotel, closer to his bed. He was ready for a full night's sleep. Five or six hours would do him good. And in the morning, he would wake up well and rested, ready to head back out again. Or, at the very least, that's what he was hoping for.

He couldn't say for certain that he would be well again. Hell, he couldn't say for certain that the effects would ever wear off. All he could do was hope. Hope that he wouldn't go blind. Hope that he would feel well enough to pull out that Beautiful, Busty Blonds magazine when he got back to the hotel. Hope that he would get the chance to knife that bitch the next time he saw her. Yes, all he could do was hope.

Shifting to get comfortable, gritting his teeth against the pain of his headache, Dean leaned back and sighed.

You'll see, he told himself for support, pressing a hand to his pounding temple. We'll wake up tomorrow and we'll feel better. Everything will be back to normal. You'll see.

Leaning his head back, forcing himself to believe that little mental pep talk, Dean closed his eyes. Sleep. That's what he needed. He needed to go back to sleep. And so, he tried. For almost two full seconds, he tried to go back to sleep.

But, no sooner had he closed his eyes and decided on what he was going to do, did he shoot up in his seat. Immediately, he gasped, struck by the most intense, the most powerful emotion he had felt in all of his lifetime. It consumed him, taking control almost instantly, spreading through his chest like wildfire. Swallowing thickly, commanded by the overwhelming urge that suddenly gripped him, Dean swiveled around in his seat, eyes as wide a saucers and mouth agape.

"Dean, what's wrong? Are you alright?" Castiel sputtered, reaching out to grab the man's shoulder. Before he could so much as touch him, Dean closed his hands around Cas' own, trying and failing to make a coherent sentence.

Panic flushed through the other as he stared at Dean, jerking his hands back to no avail. The look on his friend's face. The amazement, the wonder, the confusion, the pain.

"Castiel," Dean shook his head pitifully, brows furrowed and expression weak. He had to tell him. He had to make him understand. Oh, god, how did he last so long? How did he keep the charade for so many years? So many empty, painful, loveless years. Another year; no, another day like that would be absolute agony. He couldn't stand it any longer. "I can't believe it. I never... why did I never...I can take this anymore."

* * *

Sam decided to get food.

Pulling twenty dollars from his wallet, he smiled warmly at the woman behind the counter as she rung up and bagged his snacks. He had spent at least five minutes- way longer than he should have- roaming the candy aisle in search of a pick me up. In the end, he settled on a bag of mini Reese's cups for himself and powdered donuts for Dean.

Tonight had not been a good night. Not for any of them and especially not for his brother. They all deserved a treat and if there was one thing that made Dean happy, it was food. This was bound to put a smile on his face. His very swollen, very irritated face.

Handing the woman his cash, Sam patiently waited for his change. He was glad to wait. If anything, that gave him a chance to mull over everything before getting back in the car.

While Dean slept, him and Cas had a long conversation about the man. Mainly, what the witch had done to him. Castiel couldn't say for certain what it was, but he didn't think it was anything serious. After all, Dean wasn't showing any other reactions other than the burning eyes and scratchy throat.

For what it was worth, things could have gone a lot worse. She could have poisoned him, made him sick for weeks, turned him into a frog. There was a laundry list of bad things that can be done to a person and irritated eyes and a runny nose are pretty low on the list. In the end, Sam agreed with Castiel, letting his worry ebb thanks to the man's words.

Occasionally, when he wasn't bearing bad news or mixed up in some angel bullshit, it was nice to bring Castiel along. Of course, Sam cared a lot about him. How could he not? But sometimes his presence could be a little... stressful. Today though, he was glad he came. Without his opinion, Sam probably would have been a nervous wreck.

Swiping his change from the counter and grabbing his bag, Sam gave the woman a curt goodbye and headed for the door. He hated to admit it, but he was a little bit excited for those Reese's Cups. A little too excited, by most standards.

Unable to resist, as soon as he was out of eyesight and into the parking lot, Sam reached into the bag for his candy. He stopped short when his eyes landed on the Impala. What he saw made him immediately drop his bag and run.

Through the dim windows of the car, Sam could see Dean turned around in his seat, hands outstretched, grabbing Castiel by the wrists. Not gently either. And, apparently, not with the other's consent. Castiel's struggle was obvious, jerking back ruthlessly in an effort to free his hands. Fearful of what was happening, unsure of what else to do, Sam abandoned his bag of powdered donuts and sweet Reese's Cups and instead ran towards the car. He made it in three seconds flat, his long legs being his saving grace.

Sam jerked open the Impala door forcefully and peered inside, confusion and panic riddling his face as he watched the two of them. Dean had let go of Castiel's hands and he was now sitting there, still turned in his seat, with the absolute strangest expression on his face.

"What are you guys doing?" Sam sputtered, not sure if there was still danger or any danger at all to begin with. His gaze flickered back between Dean and Cas, searching for an answer. Castiel said nothing, pressed tightly against the backseat as though he was braced for an attack. His blue eyes were blown wide with shock, fear, and most of all, confusion. He seemed just as lost as Sam, leaving Dean to be the only one with any answers.

"Dean?"

Sam watched as the man slowly turned to face him, stifling the urge to laugh as he got a good look at his brother's face. His eyes were distant, unfocused; dare he say dreamy? His lips were parted like he was trying to speak, but no words came out. His hands were stiff, fixed open like he had been holding something. He looked like a little kid whose parents had told him no for the first time. He looked like a teenage boy who had just been rejected for prom. He looked absolutely heartbroken in the most dramatic, over the top, comical way possible.

And to top it all off, Dean utter the most outrageous thing Sam had ever heard him say.

"I think I'm in love with Cas."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** So sorry for not finishing the second chapter sooner. I've been busy with work and just recently returned from a three-week long vacation. Hopefully, this chapter was worth the wait. I must warn you: it is unedited so expect a few spelling and punctuation mistakes. Hopefully, it's not too awful. I plan on posting an edited version when I get the chance. I promise the next chapter won't take so long. Enjoy, lovelies!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

Sam couldn't help himself as he laughed. Loud, disbelieving laughter that quickly morphed into something different as he realized Dean was completely serious.

In that moment, the situation quickly went from funny to disconcerting, Sam's voice going silent as he looked back and forth between his brother and the obviously petrified angel. It became strikingly clear that neither of them were laughing. Sam's stomach lurched as if he had just taken a harsh blow to the gut.

"What?" He mumbled, confusion washing over him like a tidal wave. Immediately, his mind went in a million different directions, trying its best to piece together a conclusive answer.

"I love you," Dean whispered pitifully, this time addressing Castiel instead of Sam. He looked at the man with nothing but fondness. Before he could say anymore however, overwhelmed by such a sudden confession, Castiel decided now was a good time to make his escape.

Not waiting for the hunter to speak, Castiel slid over to the Impala's door and flung it open, stumbling out onto the concrete in a frenzy. Immediately, Dean was tumbling over himself to follow.

"Wait! Cas!" He cried, swinging the passenger's door open and struggling to get to his feet. Before he could stand up, however, Sam blocked his path.

"Dean, what the hell happened to you?" He asked worriedly, looking his brother up and down. This wasn't normal. This was nowhere near normal. He was talking to Dean Winchester. Dean freaking Winchester. A man who: A.) didn't open up about his feelings, B.) had no time for any of that gushy, chick flick, romantic bullshit, and C.) would never dream of saying "I love you" out loud.

Something was wrong. Horribly wrong. And Sam had a mounting feeling that things were only going to get worse.

Completely ignoring the question, Dean stood up, dodged beneath Sam's outstretched arms and headed directly for Cas. It was as if he was in a trance. What little regard Dean usually had for personal space when it came to the angel completely flew out the window. Castiel stumbled away, flustered and panicked, as the hunter entered his bubble, pressing so close to him that it was almost indecent. There was a loud thud as he backed into the gas pump.

"I- I don't understand," Castiel sputtered, turning his confused gaze towards Sam. His eyes brimmed with a million different emotions, some that Sam were too afraid to even consider; embarrassment, concern, confusion, intrigue, and... something else. Something he couldn't quite place. He didn't want to think about the possibilities.

"I know. It's a crazy thing, Cas. The way I feel about you. I hardly understand it myself," Dean grinned shyly, not giving his brother a chance to speak. His voice was sweet and loving as he spoke. There was nothing but adoration in his words and, as timid as a boy is with his first crush, he took the man's hand. Immediately, Castiel when rigid. His bewilderment was evident. So evident, in fact, that Sam felt now was good time to step in before the poor guy had a heart attack.

"Okay, that's enough."

Without elaborating, he grabbed Dean by the back of the shirt and heaved him across the parking lot, ignoring the defiant pleas that escaped him. Dean stumbled along behind, eyes cast dolefully back at Castiel as they edged closer and closer to the gas station doors. His desperation was clear, but Sam had no intentions of letting him go.

They needed to talk. Without Cas, to be more specific.

Sam had already developed a theory as to what was happening to his brother and he swore on everything he loved that if it was true, he was going to kick someone's ass. There was absolutely no way. No way in hell was he going to deal with that. He already put up with enough of Dean and Cas' awkward bromantical crap.

Pushing open the gas station door, the bell overhead chimed as the two men entered. Even though they were inside and being watched, Dean continued his struggle. He tried his best to pull out of his brother's grasp and all Sam could do was offer the cashier a polite "excuse us" as they tussled. He could tell from her expression that she wanted to say something, both confusion and concern crossing her face, but instead she held her tongue. Hopefully, there would be no questions asked.

Noting the sign on the wall, Sam followed the arrows to what he was looking for, pulling Dean to the back of the gas station and towards the bathrooms. Swinging the door open, he unceremoniously shoved his brother inside. Despite it being a single stall, he followed. He could feel eyes bearing down on his back as the door clicked closed behind him. Once again, he prayed for no questions asked.

"Sam, what are we doing?" Dean asked pitifully, collapsing against the sink with a lamenting sigh. "Castiel is out there all by himself."

In that moment, as he peered at his brother, all of Sam's worries were confirmed. From his glazed expression to the unprecedented need and want in his voice, there was no denying the truth.

"Okay, okay. This is...not happening. It's not happening." Sam sighed, running his hands through his hair. If there had been enough room in the tiny bathroom, he would have already rutted a trail into the floor with his pacing.

Everything about this made him sick. What had originally been so comically absurd, so outlandish that it was funny, now left a sour taste in his mouth.

Love potion, he thought in distraught, it was a love potion. There's no other explanation.

The card that the witch had left for them in the barn now made too much sense. A happy announcement; Sam thought he might gag. Her intentions were clear. A love potion meant for two. Dean and Cas. He shook his head.

"…the way he looks, the way he talks. Sam, he's just so... perfect. An angel. Friggin' awesome," Dean rambled dreamily, eyes misted like he was in a trance. He clasped his hands together tightly, pressing them to his cheek with an adoring sigh. Sam watched as his brother continued his spiel, each word just as unbearable as the last. The way he talked, the way he looked; like a young maiden about to swoon. Sam couldn't take it.

"Dean? Dean," he demanded, "You have to listen to me, okay? You have to snap out of it. It's not real. None of this is real."

"He's amazing, Sam. You know that? He's freaking amazing," Dean continued.

"Yeah, Cas is great. I get that, but we need to focus," Sam took a deep breath, grabbing his brother by the shoulders and forcing him to look directly at him. This was wrong. So wrong on so many levels. Memories of Becky Rosen and their whole love potion fiasco quickly flashed through his head and his grip on Dean's shoulders tightened.

"Focus? Sam, I am focused," Dean proclaimed, shoving the man away from him. "I'm focused on what's important. The only thing that's important."

"Okay, that's... okay. Dean, I need you to look at me and listen to me and answer me, alright?" Sam stressed, speaking slowly to make sure Dean understood. The man nodded. It was a hazy, half listening sort of nod, but a nod nevertheless. Sam continued, "Forget about Cas for a minute and pay attention to me. I need to know what's going on. Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

"Never better, Sammy. Never better. I feel just... awesome. Everything is awesome," he gushed.

"Okay, okay. That's...good, I guess. You're not in any pain? Does your head hurt? You're eyes?" Sam asked. Dean's face was still slightly swollen and puffy, eyes a little bloodshot in the dim fluorescent. Based on how he was reacting earlier, Sam could only assume it still hurt like hell. Nevertheless, his questions fell on deaf ears as his brother seemed to completely loose interest in the conversation. In the mere second that Sam had stopped speaking, Dean was once again day dreaming, a breezy, far off smile occupying his face.

Sam snapped his fingers in front of him, "Focus, Dean."

"Huh?"

"Snap out of it! You need to listen to me," he stressed. But Dean was far beyond listening.

"Do you think he loves me too?" He suddenly deadpanned, eyes snapping up to meet Sam's own with such an intensity that it made him take a step back. "Dammit, I want him to so bad."

In all honesty, Sam was completely caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. It was...unusual to say the least. And the more he talked, the more unusual it became. Like someone had suddenly flipped a switch, Dean's entire demeanor changed.

"You know how much this scares me, right? I've never felt like this about anyone, Sam. And I'm fucking terrified."

There was no denying that those words hit Sam hard. It was like a bullet to the chest.

Love potions were just that; love potions. There was nothing sincere or truthful about them. They made the inflicted fall deeply, madly in love. It was all make believe. It wasn't true.

This, however, had a note of realism that Sam couldn't deny. It felt true. It felt sincere. It felt like Dean talking instead of the potion.

And that bothered him. A lot.

Whatever this was, it wasn't the normal, run of the mill love potion. It was different in some way. A way that Sam couldn't quite put his finger on. It was somehow... more authentic? More genuine than what you would expect from a love potion? For a moment, it sounded like Dean. Too much like Dean.

"You don't love him, Dean. You're cursed. A witch cursed you," he assured, trying and failing to recapture his brother's attention. "The things you feel; they're not real. She made you think this way about Cas."

"I love him, Sam. I really do." And just like that, the sincerity was gone. Once again, Dean was all doe eyed and lovesick, voice so saturated and sweet it made to his stomach hurt.

"You don't."

"I do."

"You don't."

"Jesus Christ, I really think I do!" Dean's words echoed jarringly through the small bathroom as he suddenly jumped up from his slouch. There was no anger in his voice, only excitement. High pitched, shrieking excitement that Sam was horrified to realize his brother could make.

Like a kid on Christmas, Dean's grin grew wider and wider, exhilaration riddling his face as though he just realized for the first time what he was saying. And it made him so god damn happy.

"Dean, you do n-," Sam began to stutter, completely off put by his brother's enthusiasm, when there was a sudden knock on the door. The room suddenly fell quiet as the two men looked at one another, both seemingly surprised by the sound. Outside, Sam could hear someone shuffling, pacing anxiously in place.

"Hello?" A female's voice came nervously through the door. "Is there a problem in there?"

"No. Not at all, ma'am," Sam tried his best to sound polite, realizing it was the cashier. Great. Just great. Not only did he have to worry about his lovesick brother, but if they didn't leave soon, the woman was bound to call the cops. She sounded absolutely terrified through the door. He really couldn't blame her for that.

In a few short minutes she had witnessed Sam running like a bat out of hell through the parking lot, fighting his brother tooth and nail to get him in the gas station, and the two of them disappearing into the single stall bathroom with no explanation other than "excuse us". They must have looked shady as all hell by now. Not to mention Dean's absurd shrieking that Sam had no doubt could be heard by anyone within a two-mile radius.

Glancing over at Dean who still looked enthralled by his sudden realization, Sam sighed.

"Everything's fine," he assured once again, trying his best to sound convincing. "Everything is just fine."

* * *

As soon as they were back in the parking lot, Dean made a bee line for Cas.

Sam watched him go with more than a little apprehension, sighing quietly to himself. He quickly apologized to the woman behind the counter for their disruption, earning a quiet "no problem" in response, and jogged after his brother.

The angel was right where they had left him, sheltered against the gas pump and trying desperately to catch his breath. His expression had simmered to one of mostly uncertainty, the embarrassment and fear lacking from his face.

By the time he reached the Impala, Dean had practically linebacker tackled the man and, surprisingly, Castiel wasn't panicking. Even though the hunter's grip appeared physically painful, Castiel more or less accepted it without any qualms.

"Cas," Dean spoke breathlessly. "I missed you."

"I... missed you too, I suppose," he hesitated before shooting Dean a sheepish smile, garnering an almost ecstatic response from the man. Sam was surprised to find that Castiel was being so pleasant about it, but considering he had almost twenty minutes alone to mull the situation over, he must have gotten passed the initial shock. His look of confusion and embarrassment had now been replaced with one of shy endearment, unsure what to make of all this, but showing fondness nevertheless. After all, this was Dean they were talking about. Good or bad, Castiel was always going to have a soft spot for him.

"Sam, did you figure out... why he's acting like this?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so. If I had to guess, that witch was setting out to play matchmaker," Sam offered, watching as the realization dawned on Castiel all at once.

"Love potion. I should have known. He would never act like this on his own accord." Even though Castiel sighed and shook his head, nodding as if he understood, the odd tone of his voice was not lost. Sam paused for a moment, watching the two of them stand there under the glow of the gas station lights, and he had to wonder. There was a wistfulness in those words that could not be missed. A note of possibility that Castiel let go of when hearing the truth.

He spoke with abrupt acceptance. The kind of acceptance that was hard to swallow. It was not the type of reaction Sam expected. Not at all. Nevertheless, he decided it was best to not point it out. As of right now, they had bigger problems to worry about.

Despite his apology and attempt to rectify the situation, Sam could feel eyes staring into his back as he stood beside the Impala. Glancing behind him, he could see the cashier still watching them, staring from beyond the store front. It was clear from her expression that she was suspicious, if not a little frightened, of them. Once again, Sam couldn't blame her. After all, they must have been a pretty odd sight. Seeing three dudes loitering around an empty parking lot at night would be off-putting to anyone, but couple that with the fact that Dean was clinging to Castiel like a leech and it became about ten times weirder.

Her suspicions were certainly not misguided. Once again, they were shady as all hell.

"Look, let's talk about this in the car. We need to go. Now. Before someone calls the police."

* * *

The ride back to the hotel was uncomfortable to say the least. Having those two be so close within the same vicinity made for an awful time.

They hadn't been on the road for more than five minutes before Dean was unbuckling his seat belt, turning around completely in his seat so that he could be facing Castiel. Sam warned him multiple times to put it back on, but he refused, opting instead to continue with his hopeless speech about how "incredibly awesome" the angel was.

If it had been under different circumstances- circumstances that didn't involve a love potion and Sam being no more than two feet away- the whole thing might have actually been pretty cute. Seeing Dean be so sweet was actually kind of refreshing. Usually, when it came to his brother, romance meant sharing a couple of drinks at the bar and making out in the parking lot. It was nice to see something so... normal for him. The embarrassment, the compliments, the lack of implication behind it.

He was laughing and grinning and literally jumping for joy when he managed to break Castiel's concentration and get a rise out of him. He gushed over the angel's embarrassment- "Are you blushing, Cas?"- and almost swooned when the man cracked a smile. He was trying his best to be charming, but not in his usual over exaggerated, cool guy sort of way. This was natural and sweet and surprisingly genuine. He was cracking jokes and reciting dumb pickup lines and smiling like he actually meant every word of it. The allure was not lost on Castiel and after a while Sam could hear him laughing in the backseat, chuckling under his breath and trying to be discreet.

Once again, it was a nice picture. But with each and every sound he made- every laugh, every snort, every sigh- Sam could feel the knot in his stomach tightening. Castiel had quickly gone from mortification, to acceptance, and now this. He was here listening to Dean's jokes and laughing and, even if it wasn't intentional, encouraging the antics that were spurred by fabricated attraction.

Sam was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

In all honesty, he understood where it was coming from. Cas had always been a little- just a little- too fond of Dean. Just enough so that it left a huge question mark in their relationship. It was like an elephant in the room that never went away. And right now, that question mark was quickly getting an answer. There was no doubt in Sam's mind that this was going to get weird. He had full faith that Castiel would never do anything with negative intentions- especially not when it came to Dean- but this whole situation was bound to open a really nasty can of worms. He could feel it.

Sam watched hesitantly through the rearview mirror as Castiel fought to keep from smiling, all the fear and embarrassment and confusion he had displayed earlier completely melting away. His eyes were fixed on Dean, listening as the man chattered on, bits and pieces of the conversation drifting to Sam's ears as he remained focused on the angel in the back seat.

"It's a classic. I can't believe we haven't watched it before. As soon as we get back to the hotel, I'm renting it. And, you know, if you get too scared...," Dean chuckled shyly, biting his lower lip as he smiled. "I'll be right there."

The knot in Sam's stomach clenched just a little tighter.


End file.
